To Live Deliberately
by Priestess Mayumi
Summary: Can Brom come to terms with his life before he dies? The thoughts Eragon never knew ran through Brom's head when he sacrificed himself to save his student. One short. Incredibly depressing or not: depends on you. WARNING: May contain Brisingr spoilers.


To Live Deliberately

After I read Brisingr, it gave me a whole new perspective on Brom, and I was inspired to write this story.

Did anyone else not enjoy Eldest as much just because Brom wasn't in it? I cried in the first one when he died.

Well, enjoy...comment...you know the drill

I wish that these characters belonged to me...but they don't. They're Christopher Paolini's. I'm not making money from this (I wish ;-) Selena's favorite poem was part of a poem written by Henry David Thoreau.

Brom breathed harshly, the first breath he had even dared draw since he, Eragon, and Saphira had fled from Dras-Leona and the Ra'zac.

He cursed under his breath. He hadn't been discreet enough and Eragon had been found out…and almost killed by the Ra'zac. Angrily, he cursed again, but this time not at the impregnable situation before them, but at himself. He'd been foolish, and it had almost cost Eragon his life.

That was the part that caused guilt to grip his heart with fear. He had almost killed Eragon: his companion, his student…

…his son

He shook that angry thought from his mind. It would only serve to hinder his judgement more.

Cutting through the silence, Eragon asked, "We can't go back to Dras-Leona, can we?"

Eyes on the ground, Brom muttered, "Not for a few _years_." The boy let out a hopeless sigh. "Then should we draw the Ra'zac out? If we let Saphira be seen, they'll come running to wherever she is."

Grunting, the old man answered, "And when they do, there will be fifty soldiers with them. At any rate, this isn't the time to discuss it. Right now we have to concentrate on staying alive. Tonight will be the more dangerous because the Ra'zac will be hunting us in the dark, when they are the strongest. We'll have to trade watches until morning." Suddenly, a strange feeling took his mind over. It was almost though…one of them wouldn't survive this…

_No!_ He managed to scourge the treacherous thought from his mind. They had to live. There was so much depending on them…on Eragon anyway.

Lost in thought, rolling out his sleeping blankets, Brom turned to see Eragon squinting off into the dark. "What is it?" he asked in apprehension.

Shaking his head uselessly, Eragon replied, "I don't know. I thought I saw something. It must have been a bird."

In a moment, Brom saw the Ra'zac behind Eragon and opened his mouth to warn the boy, but it was too late. The Ra'zac gave the Dragon Rider a hard blow to his head, rendering him unconscious. Saphira let out a roar of pain, and she and Brom both leaped toward the Ra'zac.

"Not ssso fassst." The Ra'zac hissed, "or we kill the boy."

Eyes peering into the darkness, Brom spotted a second Ra'zac and cursed loudly.

"Ssso dragon, if you offer no resistance to us, then we will ssspare him."

Saphira growled deeply, but her muscles slackened. All four of them knew that Saphira would do anything to save Eragon's life.

Brom, however, was not so easily persuaded. Leaping to his makeshift bed, he grabbed his sword and engaged in active combat with the Ra'zac. It took both of the monsters to fend him off, and a faint snicker escaped his mouth. He was showing pride, but he couldn't help it.

Finally, he managed to wound one of the beasts in the arm. The Ra'zac gave a high-pitched screech and fell to the ground. _One down, one to go._ Brom was confident in his abilities: this the Ra'zac realized. What they also realized, unfortunately, was that Brom had one weakness.

Out of the corner of his eye, the old storyteller saw the second Ra'zac approach Eragon, saw him draw a wicked-looking dagger from his robes, saw him lay the cold, merciless metal blade against his protégé's bare neck…

"No!" Brom yelled.

"Drop your sssword," the Ra'zac taunted. When Brom hesitated, the fiend pressed the dagger against Eragon's neck. "Drop it." Brom felt the weapon slip from his hand. It didn't matter now. He _had_ to save Eragon!

The Ra'zac Brom had been fighting forced him to the ground. His vision was growing hazy, and the dark shadows looming in front of him were confusing. His mind didn't register when the Ra'zac pulled a thick cord from a pack. _Cord? What for?_ When he saw the monster pull Eragon's limp arms behind his back, however, it clicked. His mind instantly went back to when he had, secretly, held Eragon as a baby. That perfect, tiny body resting blissfully in his arms. Then, he pictured the infant in Yazuac, run through with a spear. His mind then reverted to the scene before him. They were tying up Eragon.

And he was furious.

In anger, he tried to pull himself up, to run to his student's side, but the Ra'zac was too strong and only laughed at his attempts.

_My child…my child…they are binding MY CHILD!_ The fury coursed through his veins. Finally, he couldn't watch the atrocity any longer, and a veil of tears impaired his vision.

His grief was so strong, that he barely noticed the cold, slimy draught forced down his throat…until he plunged into darkness.

--

His mind was fuzzy, and he could barely remember what had taken place. He rolled over on his side, and found that his arms would not move. _So, I was bound too._

From this haze came the bitter, clear voices of the Ra'zac. "It'sss wearing off." Brom realized they had given him a tranquilizing drug…his powers would be useless.

"Give him more."

"Let's just…" the rest of their conversation was lost to the oncoming surge of pain that was crashing down on the old man. The next thing he knew, he was being dragged along the cold, hard ground. The dirt and pebbles became embedded in his bloodied knees. He could not summon the strength to open his eyes, but he could tell that something bad was happening.

All of the sudden, he felt his silver hair yanked backwards, the rest of his head following it. He felt the familiar sting of metal against his throat. _So, this is it_, he thought scornfully, _I'm going to die and I'm going to die a failure to everyone who ever trusted me._ _Perhaps, though, it is better to die a failure than live as one._

The thought didn't last too long though. The Ra'zac released his grasp and both of the fiends broke into hysteria. An onlooker was obviously attacking them. _And just in time. _He staggered upright, the blood rushing to his head all at once. The one distinct thing he heard was Eragon's voice, "Get down!"

Turning toward the sound, Brom noticed Eragon toward the edge of the clearing, bound under a tree, obviously drugged too.

Brom started running as fast as he could, considering his restraints. His only thought was Eragon. He _had_ to get to Eragon.

The next sequence of events occurred in slow motion. Fleeing the camp, one of the Ra'zac turned and, sneering at Eragon, again withdrew the dagger from the folds of his clothing. Hesitating only momentarily, the monster slowly, or so it seemed, raised his had and hurled the knife at Eragon.

Brom ran with all the strength that he'd ever had…even greater than the kind he'd had when he had been younger. He saw the only free Rider of Alagaesia, not to mention his **son**, turn pale and wide-eyed. But the anger for evil and love Brom felt for his son poured through him, and made him faster than the knife. As he ran, he heard the words of the old poem echo through his mind.

_I went into the woods, because I wanted to live deliberately._

As the last word rang out into the silence, Brom jumped in front of his greatest joy, his son Eragon, shielding him with his own body. He felt the dagger even before it touched him. In went deep…deep, right between his ribs.

He tried to cry in agony, but the sound wouldn't come. The last thing he heard before it all melted away, was the sound of Eragon's tortured scream.

--

His mind was filled with a lucid clarity, which drove him even deeper into an abyss of madness. Outside of his body, he saw his corporeal being lying on a cave ledge, mortally wounded.

Yet, his mind was elsewhere…Yazuac to be exact.

_The villagers ran, frantically, in every direction, but it was no use. One by one, the Urgals hunted them down and killed them. Wading horrified through the bloody carnage, he looked up and when he saw them, his eyes turned cold. _

_In the middle of all this death, he saw the face of his love, Selena. She was running frantically through the streets, trying desperately to find a safe haven for her and the small boy she dragged behind her…_

_Eragon._

_It was his son, several years younger, but his eyes still shone with an infallible determination. Brom tried to cry out to his family, but they kept running, as though they could not hear him. They turned down a dark alleyway and out of sight. He ran as fast as his dream appendages would carry him but, as always is the case with dreams, he could never be fast enough. By the time he rounded the corner, it was too late._

_The Urgals had Selena and Eragon in their grasp. Brom reached to his side for a weapon with which to defend his loved ones, but it was gone. A roar of agony ringing through the air caused him to turn his eyes skyward._

_It was a dragon. Her scales shone azure blue against the polished sun. It was Saphira. Not Eragon's Saphira, but his own. And she was falling to the ground in an incredible speed. He frantically reached out to her, but the only words he could hear were _help me!

_All too soon, she crashed out of sight and the feeble connection severed, and he knew that she was dead._

_Then, he heard the crack._

_Turning back to the scene before him, he saw the biggest Urgal snapping Selena's neck with his huge hands. He threw her lifeless body to the ground and bellowed as if killing a defenseless woman and mother was something courageous._

_The old man's dream body coursed with fury, and he leapt toward the second Urgal, the one who held Eragon. Leaping onto the Urgal, they fought for control. He and the monster wrestled savagely, but in the end it was Brom who succeeded in tearing the boy from his opponent's grasp._

_He started to crawl feebly toward Eragon, when he heard a hissing snicker. At once, his hackles rose and his hair stood on end. There, standing over the young boy was a Ra'zac…and he again saw the evil, menacing knife flashing in the Ra'zac's hand. This time however, due to his dream, he was too slow. He heard Eragon's horrible scream as the Ra'zac plunged the dagger right through his heart. _

_That sound created much more pain than his actual physical injuries sustained from the Ra'zac. Brom glanced at the horribly murdered bodies of those for whom he would give his life, and for the first time in so long, he wept bitterly._

_Selena…Saphira…they died…and I did nothing to stop it._

_His weeping was cut short by maniacal laughter. Looking into the sky, he saw Morzan and Galbatorix on their dragons looking down on his sorrow, and laughing…_

But no!

He had to live!

He had to live so that Eragon could know the truth…

Turning his head backward he saw, as though through a mirror, the cave where his body was lying. With all his might, he willed himself back into his mortal form. His body was trying, in pain, to reject his presence. He half-felt himself fall from the ledge and could almost feel the convulsions running through his body. He tried with everything he had, until finally he had to use the ancient language.

The spell would be very costly, as though it mattered now. Whatever he said to Eragon, it would have to be quick.

Forcing his eyes open with a start, he gazed strait into the eyes of his worried student. He grabbed Eragon's shoulder for strength. The spell was taking far more than he had anticipated so soon.

"You!" he gasped, finding that breathing air was now like sucking molasses through a tube. "Bring me the wineskin!"

A look of relief spread over Eragon's face. "Brom? You shouldn't drink wine; it'll only make you worse."

"Bring it, boy—just bring it…" The pain was becoming too much, and his hand slid from Eragon's shoulder as the boy ran off to fulfill the request. A faint smile touched Brom's lips. Even at the end, Eragon thought him a foolish old drunk. It was almost ironic, really.

Returning, Eragon collapsed at Brom's side, gasping for air.

"Good…now…wash my right hand with it."

"What--"

"No questions!" the old man rasped. "I haven't time!" Pausing to give his mentor a strange look, Eragon unstopped the wineskin and dutifully scrubbed off the dye that Brom had so skillfully put there. When Eragon saw what he needed to see, he turned his eyes toward Brom's, his pupils wide in astonishment.

"You're a Rider?"

The implications of that single word caused a million memories, most of them painful, to parade through the dying man's mind. He weakly smiled at his student. "Once upon a time that was true…but no more. When I was young…younger than you are now, I was chosen…chosen by the Riders to join their ranks. While they trained me, I became friends with another apprentice…Morzan before he was a Forsworn." That name evoked a familiar distaste in Brom's mouth. _That scoundrel! He stole everything from me while he was alive…and even now that he's dead, his legacy is still conspiring against me! _"But then he betrayed us to Galbatorix…and in the fighting at Doru Araeba—Vroengard's city—my young dragon was killed. Her name…was Saphira." Pain gripped Brom's heart as the longing for the companion of his soul surfaced in his mind.

"Why didn't you tell me this before?"

The Rider managed a harsh laugh, "Because…there was no need to. I am old, Eragon…so old. Though my dragon was killed, my life has been longer than most. You don't know what it is to reach my age, look back, and realize that you don't remember much of it; then to look forward and know that many years still lie ahead of you…after all this time I still grieve for my Saphira…and hate Galbatorix for what he tore from me." Galbatorix's laughter, the laughter from his dream, echoed mockingly in his mind, and not even all his willpower could block it out.

His breath was growing more labored, and he clenched his hand to keep the pain from taking over his voice. "Don't let that happen to you. Don't! Guard Saphira with your life, for without her, it's hardly worth living."

With a worried, yet pitying look in his eyes, Eragon whispered firmly, "You shouldn't talk like this. Nothing's going to happen to her."

Not even sure whether he was talking inside his head or out loud anymore, Brom mumbled, "Perhaps I am rambling." Suddenly, an electric jolt ran through him. He felt his spell, waning. His body no longer had the strength to support his magic. He could feel his life slipping away like water through a sieve.

With the power of an imminent urgency, he clenched his son's arm. "Eragon! I cannot last much longer. This…this is a grievous wound: it saps my strength. I have not the energy to fight it…before I go, will you take my blessing?"

Tears built up in Eragon's eyes. "Everything will be all right. You don't have to do this," he protested.

"It is the way of things…I must. Will you take my blessing?" Eragon bowed his head in compliance, trying to muffle choking sobs. Trembling, Brom laid his hand on Eragon's head and in a strained voice spoke, "Then I give it to you. May the coming years bring you great happiness." There was so much more that he wanted to add in his final blessing to his only son, but he could not. Instead, in his deadly quiet voice, he whispered the Seven Ancient words to Eragon.

"That is all I can give you…use them only in great need." As his vision started to go dark, he turned from Eragon and directed his gaze toward the sky so that the boy would not see the tears in his failing eyes. "And now, for the greatest adventure of all…" He heard his son's voice, impaired by tears, trying to comfort him, but the darkness had seized his soul and was preparing to draw him from his body one last time.

A thousand images flashed before his glazed eyes and he saw people: Oromis, Morzan, Galbatorix, Saphira, Selena, Jeod…

…Eragon

And, for the first time in 15 years, the coldness in his heart vanished, replaced by hope.

He remembered, hazily, the poem that his Selena had loved so much…and each word echoed through his heart, accompanied by a memory.

'I went into the woods…'

_"This is your dragon Brom: Saphira" Oromis said._

'…because I wanted to live deliberately.'

_"Together, Saphira, we can do great things!"_

_Of that I have no doubt._

_"And you'll always be there for me?"_

_Always._

'And not, when it came my time to die…'

_"Saphira!" There was no answer._

_"I'm so sorry. We did everything we could, but Selena is gone. She died two hours ago"_

'…discover that I had not lived."

_"How did you know I was from the Varden?"_

_"I just did."_

_"Why aren't you betraying me?"_

_"Why haven't you killed me?"_

_"Because…you awakened something in me that I thought was dead a long time ago."_

_"Same here."_

Suddenly, the powerful, unseen force yanked him back to his dream of Yazuac. This time, however, he threw himself in the Ra'zac's path, in front of Eragon, and the knife went right through his ribs. Looking up, he saw the monster poised and ready for the final deathblow, but it never came.

"BRISINGR!"

A fiery explosion tore through the town, killing all the Ra'zac within. Through hazy, dying eyes, he saw Eragon.

"I will not fail you, father."

Smiling, Brom sobbed, "I know, my son. I know."

Suddenly, cutting through his joy, his body stiffened. He heard Eragon cry his name, but it was too late. He forced his eyes open once more. He locked eyes with Eragon's and smiled.

As he breathed his last breath, he looked into the sky and he would have screamed if he had had the chance. Not in fear, but in unbelief and elation.

He saw a dragon, the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, glittering in the sky like a million gems: her sapphire scales droning out the azure skies in brilliance. And on her back, was an equally beautiful young woman, whose smile was more happy and joyful that it ever had been while she was alive.

He heard their voices, in unison, speak to his mind.

_Old man, you've got a lot to answer for._

_I know, _he mentally shouted toward Saphira and Selena, _I know._

Confidently, he let go of life and plunged strait into the void…strait into the arms of the two females he loved most in all the world.

He had always imagined death as being dark and cold, but it was the warmest and brightest thing his troubled soul had ever known.

And finally, he would have peace.


End file.
